


Enough With the Pirates!

by PaperDaydream



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Kidlock, Mycroft and baked goods, Pirate Sherlock, Sibling Squabbling, Stubborn Sherlock, There is a pie involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperDaydream/pseuds/PaperDaydream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year for Halloween, seven-year-old Sherlock Holmes has been a pirate. Mycroft is sick of it. He's also sick of his diet. Why won't Sherlock just share that pumpkin pie?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough With the Pirates!

“Are you going trick-or-treating this year, Sherlock?” Mycroft asked his seven-year-old brother in an attempt to distract him from the fresh pumpkin pie he had every intention of eating entirely himself.  
Sherlock shrugged, but slid the pie away, well-aware of his plan. “I may as well go. Are you?”  
“Well I can’t exactly send you out on your own, after last year,” Mycroft pointed out, still staring after the dessert.  
“Well, that girl was an idiot! Butterflies are insects, My! They have six legs! Not four, six! It was only fair that I pointed that out to her,” he protested.  
“She was three. You made her cry,” Mycroft reminded him, raising an eyebrow.  
Sherlock shrugged again. “She had it coming. That was an insulting misrepresentation of a costume! She should have been something more sensible than a four-legged butterfly.”  
“And what are you going as this year?” Mycroft asked him.  
“A pirate,” Sherlock replied, cutting a piece of the pie for himself and relishing his older brother’s look of pain.  
Mycroft shook off his desire for the pie and gave a short, derisive laugh. “How very… sensible.”   
“Well I’m going to be one, so clearly it is,” Sherlock shot back.  
“Is it now?” Mycroft asked, with a futile grab at the pie, which his brother slid easily even farther away.  
“Yes. Mummy says pirates are real. Why do you always lie and say they’re not?” he took a bite of the pie with a smirk.  
“Of course they’re real, but not the way you think they are, what with their peg legs and parrots. She’s just humoring you,” Mycroft commented, forcing himself to look away.  
“Well then, I’ll just be a new kind of pirate. I’ll invent the job,” Sherlock proclaimed.  
Mycroft rolled his eyes. “You were a pirate last year, Sherlock!”  
“So what?” the little boy asked.  
“And the year before!”  
“And…?”   
“You have been a pirate every single year since you were born!” Mycroft shouted.  
“I like pirates,” Sherlock remarked, defensively, “They’re cool!”  
“But every year?!” Mycroft cried.  
“I don’t see what you’re complaining about,” Sherlock pointed out, coolly, “I already have the costume.”  
“You wore it every week in grade one!” Mycroft yelled.  
“And what should that matter?” Sherlock asked.   
“It-it just-” Mycroft spluttered, “JUST PICK A DIFFERENT COSTUME FOR ONCE!”  
“No!” Sherlock yelled back.  
“WHY NOT?!” Mycroft roared.  
“Don’t wanna!” Sherlock wailed, in the beginnings of a tantrum.   
“Sherlock, you can’t be a pirate!” Mycroft yelled back at him.  
“But I want to be a pirate, Mycroft!”  
“Well, you can’t always get what you want!”  
“NOOOOOOOO!” Sherlock screamed, “I AM a pirate! I hate you Mycroft!”  
“How about you dress as prime minister?” Mycroft suggested, fighting to calm down.  
“NO! THAT’S STUPID! I HATE YOU AND YOUR DULL IDEAS!”   
Mycroft face-palmed, taking a deep breath, “Well you have to be something!”  
“I’ll be a pirate!”  
“You’re being childish!” Mycroft growled.  
“I AM a child!” Sherlock screamed, “You’re just jealous of my pie!”  
Mycroft was beginning to go very red in the face. “THAT’S A LIE!”  
“Aren’t you on a diet, you fatty, fatty, fat Mycroft?!” Sherlock sneered.  
“GROW UP!” he shot back.   
“So I can be a big fat meanie like you? No thanks!”  
“I DON’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS!” yelled Mycroft, “GIVE ME THAT PIE!”  
“NO!” Sherlock screeched, “I won’t because you’re just a big fat bully and you-”  
The front door suddenly swung open and the brothers fell silent.  
“I’m sorry,” the girl at the door said awkwardly, “It was unlocked… Is this a bad time, Mycroft?”  
“No,” Mycroft hissed through his teeth, “It’s fine. Come on in, Charlotte.”  
“I was thinking Anthea this week,” the girl commented, “Can’t have anyone getting too close to my true identity.”  
“Quite right,” Mycroft agreed.  
“So… I did call, but nobody picked up,” she sighed, “But don’t we have a government project to do?”  
“Yes, of course!” Mycroft said, getting quickly up from his pouting brother’s side to walk over to her.  
“This isn’t over,” the brooding child warned, darkly.  
Mycroft sighed. “Yes it is, Sherlock. Now leave the big kids to their work!”   
Sherlock’s frown deepened still, but suddenly a huge bee flew though the doorway on a current of crisp fall air and stung Mycroft right on the tip of his nose.  
The twelve-year-old gave a high-pitched little squeal of pain, clutching his injured nose, and a smile spread slowly across his little brother’s face.  
“My, I changed my mind. I’m going to be a bee this year!” he proclaimed, “With all six legs!” and with that he swung down from his chair and went off to his room to go and find his brother’s Advanced Chemistry book for some light reading, carrying the pie with him.


End file.
